The house of Avalon
by Arriane.Isobel
Summary: The lake of Avalon slowly dries up, and Merlin preserves the ghosts of his past.


_Just hold me._

The words haunted him, as he watched the fire slowly die down. He'd never return to Camelot, without Arthur, there was nothing there for him, not really.

In the years to come, he wondered about Gaius, what he did with his time, when he retired, when he died. He thought about Gwen, poor, unsuspecting Gwen, with her small bump and heavy crown.

He spent his days watching over Avalon, watching the sparkle of a new soul, a ripple in the water of a tormented ghost.

_I'll die someday_ he thought, naively. Time passed, and he should have died, of starvation, of exhaustion, there was the time that boar had mauled his leg, the blood loss and infection alone was enough to kill a stronger man, but still, after days of pain and fever and hallucinations, he pulled through.

Arthur was always there in his dreams, telling him go back to Camelot, but he didn't.

He was building. It started with a couple of rocks making a wall, then two walls, then four. A small hut, enough to keep the snow out, enough to keep wild animals out.

He never did starve, even though he'd tired once. He'd learnt how to hunt from Arthur, and of course, magic was always on his side. Years passed by, He watched as particularly bright spark danced across the water._ Gwen_ he thought sadly. At least they were reunited.

But he couldn't help but wonder, when would he be reunited?

The world moved on, moved forwards, and Sorcery became a story, simple parlour tricks with cards.

The lake slowly started to dry up.

He didn't notice at first, of course he didn't, he took years for him to notice, but eventually, it became hard to ignore.

Cars roamed the roads. Great big loud contraptions and Merlin hated them.

The land in the middle of the lake rose as the water dwindled away.

In a desperate attempt to be _close, _he began to build on the land. He started small, slightly bigger than his hut, but still small.

Nostalgia was on his side, and lake disappeared, with only him to miss it.

He built a house. A grand thing, with as much modern fittings as he could bear.

And then they started showing up.

It was just a glimpse at first, Gaius flicking through a book at his table, and then it was gone.

Lancelot, dear, humble Lancelot smiling at him in the mirror.

They were all there, all slowly getting used to staying with him.

Their voices were an echo in his mind, but he could hear them, and they could hear him.

Everyone but Arthur.

_He'll come around _Lancelot smiled. _He's just being stubborn._

Gwen fluttered about in the kitchen, not touching anything, never touching anything. _He misses you_.

He'd wake up in a daze, not sure if he was dreaming, or if Freya really laying next to him, smiling secretively at him, her eyes bright with tears.

_I never forgot you, how could I? You were everything, I wanted to give you everything. _

Lancelot would sit with him at the table as he ate his porridge.

_Something's never change, do they?_

Sometimes, the house would get cold, his fingers would go numb, and his breath would dance in front of him. Morgana would stand in the middle of his living room, deathly pale and scream _traitor._

But she never stayed, they didn't allow it, she was too damaged, her soul was chained up somewhere dark.

Gwaine would only appear if there was alcohol or a hot meal. Then he'd sit and wink _Miss me magic boy? I can tell you now, when they told me you were Emrys, I nearly dropped my ale._

Every now and then, he'd catch a glimpse of blond hair, in the mirror, out the corner of his eye, but Arthurs never there. He'd never really forgive him, for lying to him. Maybe he'll come around eventually; he's got all the time in the world, after all.

_Oh my boy_, his mother would smile sadly. _You've been so strong, so brave, I love you, don't forget that_.

He could barely recognise himself in the mirror anymore, his hair was long and grey, as was his beard. All he needed was his robes and he'd be dragoon again. The thought made him smile. The first genuine smile in a long time.

Over a thousand years.

That's how long he'd waited for this moment.

He was there, sitting at his kitchen table, staring blankly at the newspaper on the table.

"2014?"

It was spoken out loud, the words ringing around the dingy kitchen.

He looked up sharply.

"That can't be right" Arthur stood up shakily.

"It is" He whispered

"Merlin, I - " Arthur stopped, shaking his head.

"You're here" The words were barely audible.

Arthur stepped forward and threw his arms around his small, weak frame

"Missed you, missed you so much, Merlin"

"I missed you too"

"I forgive you, there's nothing to forgive, not anymore"

The tears came freely "Thank you, thank you so much"

"Shh" Arthur soothed. "I've been told Albion needs us"


End file.
